Should the book be made or chosen?

The repetitions, when the pupil had got on some way in the book, could not always be from the beginning; still

predecessor Ascham. As I have had a good deal of experience with beginners in German, I will give from an old lecture of mine the main conclusions at which I have arrived :-"My principle is to attack the most vital part of the language, and at first to keep the area small, or rather to enlarge it very slowly; but within that area I want to get as much variety as possible. The study of a book written in the language should be carried on pari passu with drill in its common inflexions. Now arises the question, Should the book be made with the object of teaching the language, or should it be selected from those written for other purposes? I see much to be said on either side. The three great facts we have to turn to account in teaching a language, are these:-first, a few words recur so constantly that a knowledge of them and grasp of them gives us a power in the language quite out of proportion to their number; second, large classes of words admit of many variations of meaning by inflection, which variations we can understand from analogy; third, compound words are formed ad infinitum on simple laws, so that the root word supplies the key to a whole family. Now, if the book is written by the language-teacher, he has the whole language before him, and he can make the most of all these advantages. He can use only the important words of the language; he can repeat them in various connections; he can bring the main facts of inflection and construction before the learner in a regular order, which is a great assistance to the memory; he can give the simple words before introducing words compounded of them; and he can provide that, when a word occurs for tne first time, the learners shall connect it with its root meaning. A short book securing all these advantages would, no doubt, be a very useful implement, but I have never seen such a book. Almost all delectuses, &c., bury the learner with a pile of new words, under which he feels himself powerless. So far as I know, the book has yet to be written. And even if it were written, with the greatest success from a linguistic point of view, it would of course make no pretension to a meaning. Having myself gone through a course of Ahn and of Ollendorf, I reinember, as a sort of nightmare, innumerable questions and answers, such as "Have you my thread stockings? No, I have your worsted stockings." Still more repulsive are the long sentences of Mr. Prender

Robertsonian plan.

every part was to be repeated so frequently that nothing could be forgotten. Jacotot did not wish his pupils to learn

gast:-"How much must I give to the cabdriver to take.my father to the Bank in New Street before his second breakfast, and to bring him home again before half-past two o'clock?" I cannot forget Voltaire's mot, which has a good deal of truth in it,-" Every way is good but the tiresome way." And most of the books written for beginners are inexpressibly tiresome. No doubt it will be said, "Unless you adopt the rapid-impressionist plan, any book must be tiresome. What is a meaning at first becomes no meaning by frequent repetition." This, however, is not altogether true. I myself have taught Niebuhr's Heroengeschichten for years, and I know some chapters by heart; but the old tales of Jason and Hercules as they are told in Niebuhr's simple language do not bore me in the least.

"Ein Begriff muss bei dem Worte sein,"

says the Student in Faust; and a notion—a very pleasing notion, too— remains to me about every word in the Heroengeschichten.

These, then, would be my books to be worked at the same time by a beginner, say in German :-A book for drill in the principal inflexions, followed by the main facts about gender, &c., and a book like the Heroengeschichten. This I would have prepared very much after the Robertsonian manner. It should be printed, as should also the Primer, in good-sized Roman type; though, in an appendix, some of it should be reprinted in German type. The book should be divided into short lessons. A translation of each lesson should be given in parallel columns. Then should come a vocabulary, in which all useful information should be given about the really important words, the unimportant words being neglected. Finally should come variations, and exercises in the lessons; and in these the important words of that and previous lessons should be used exclusively. The exercises should be such as the pupils could do in writing out of school, and vivâ voce in school. They should be very easy—real exercises in what is already known, not a series of linguistic puzzles. The object of the exercises, and also of a vast number of vivå voce questions, should be to accustom the pupil to use his knowledge readily. (But some teachers, young teachers especially, are always cross-examining, and seem to themselves to fail when their questions are

Hints for exercises.

simply in order to forget, but to learn in order to remember "We are learned," said he, "not so far as we

for ever.

answered without difficulty.) The ear, the voice, the hand, should al be practised on each lesson. When the construing is known, transcription of the German is not by any means to be despised. A good variety of transcription is, for the teacher to write the German clause by clause on the black-board, and rub out each clause before the pupils begin to write it. Then a known piece may be prepared for dictation. In reading this as dictation, the master may introduce small variations, to teach his pupils to keep their ears open. He may, as another exercise, read the German aloud, and stop here and there for the boys to give the English of the last sentence read; or he may read to them either the exact German in the book or small variations on it, and make the pupils translate viva voce, clause by clause. He may then ask questions on the piece in German and require answers in English.

For exercises, there are many devices by which the pupil may be trained to observation, and also be confirmed in his knowledge of back lessons. The great teacher, F. A. Wolf, used to make his own children ascertain how many times such and such a word occurred in such and such pages. As M. Bréal says, children are collectors by nature; and, acting on this hint, we might say, "Write in column all the dative cases on pages a to c, and give the English and the corresponding nominatives." Or, "Copy from those pages all the accusative prepositions with the accusatives after them." Or, "Write out the past participles, with their infinitives." Or, "Translate such and such sentences, and explain them with reference to the context." Or, questions may be asked on the subject-matter of the book. There is no end to the possible varieties of such exercises.

As soon as they get any feeling of the language, the pupils should learn by heart some easy poetry in it. I should recommend their learn. ing the English of the piece first, and then getting the German viva voce from the teacher. To quicken the German in their minds, I think it is well to give them in addition a German prose version, using almost the same words. Variations of the more important sentences should be learnt at the same time.

In all these suggestions you will see what I am aiming at. I wish

The good of having learnt.

have learned, but only so far as we remember.” He seems, indeed, almost to ignore the fact that the act of learning serves other purposes than that of making learned, and to assert that to forget is the same as never to have learned, which is a palpable error. We necessarily forget much that passes through our minds, and yet its effect remains. All grown people have arrived at some opinions, convictions, knowledge, but they cannot call to mind every spot they trod on in the road thither. When we have read a great history, say, or travelled through a fresh country, we have gained more than the number of facts we happen to remember. The mind seems to have formed an acquaintance with that history or that country, which is something different from the mere acquisition of facts. Moreover, our interests, as well as our ideas, may long survive the memory of the facts which originally started them. We are told that one of the old judges, when a barrister objected to some dictum of his, put him down by the assertion, “Sir, I have forgotten more law than ever you read.” If he wished to make the amount forgotten a measure of the amount remembered, this was certainly fallacious, as the ratio between the two is not a constant quantity. But he may have meant that this extensive reading had left its result, and that he could see things from more points of view than the less travelled legal vision of his opponent. That power acquired by learning may also last longer than the knowledge of the thing learned is sufficiently obvious. So the advantages derived from having learnt a thing are not entirely lost when the thing itself is forgotten.*

the learner to get a feeling of, and a power over, the main words of the language and the machinery in which they are employed.

I append in a note a passage from the old edition of this book re

The old Cambridge "mathematical man."

§ 16. But the reflection by no means justifies the dis graceful waste of memory which goes on in most school

ferring to the Cambridge man of forty years ago. "The typical Cambridge man studies mathematics, not because he likes mathematics, or derives any pleasure from the perception of mathematical truth, still less with the notion of ever using his knowledge; but either because, if he is "a good man," he hopes for a fellowship, or because, if he cannot aspire so high, he considers reading the thing to do, and finds a satisfaction in mental effort just as he does in a constitutional to the Gogmagogs. When such a student takes his degree, he is by no means a highly cultivated man; but he is not the sort of man we can despise for all that. He has in him, to use one of his own metaphors, a considerable amount of force, which may be applied in any direction. He has great power of concentration and sustained mental effort even on subjects which are distasteful to him. In other words, his mind is under the control of his will, and he can bring it to bear promptly and vigorously on anything put before him. He will sometimes be half through a piece of work, while an average Oxonian (as we Cambridge men conceive of him at least) is thinking about beginning. But his training has taught him to value mental force without teaching him to care about its application. Perhaps he has been working at the gymnasium, and has at length succeeded in "putting up" a hundredweight. In learning to do this, he has been acquiring strength for its own sake. He does not want to put up hundredweights, but simply to be able to put them up, and his reward is the consciousness of power. Now the tripos is a kind of competitive examination in putting up weights. The student who has been training for it, has acquired considerable mental vigour, and when he has put up his weight he falls back on the consciousness of strength which he seldom thinks of using. Having put up the heavier, he despises the lighter weights. He rather prides himself on his ignorance of such things as history, modern languages, and English literature. He "can get those up in a few evenings," whenever he wants them. He reminds me, indeed, of a tradesman who has worked hard to have a large balance at his banker's. This done, he is satisfied. He has neither taste nor desire for the things which make wealth valuable; but when he sees other people in the enjoyment of